


Something Lethal

by perlaret



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Thralls, Vampire Bites, knightpilotweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 07:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7304662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perlaret/pseuds/perlaret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe knows what a thrall is, knows what it feels like. He knows how dangerous it is. </p><p>He goes after Kylo Ren anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Lethal

Poe knows the pull of it.

Even after all these years, it still takes a moment to click, the space of time between the physiological reaction and the recognition that follows. It's the swoop in his stomach, the way his breath catches and his eyes are drawn across the bar. It's in the way his heart kicks into high gear, blood pumping in his ears over the music, something not quite like adrenaline lighting sparks down his spine.

This moment lasts longer than most. 

His gaze lands on a tall figure across the crowded room and, instinctively, Poe knows that he's found the culprit. Everything sharpens to a pinpoint around the other man and everything about him makes Poe feel lightheaded and dizzy. He can't help but drink in every detail -- cataloguing the broadness of his shoulders, the wave of his dark hair, the lethal grace with which he moves when he turns his head. Poe's mouth runs abruptly dry. Their eyes meet and it's like a punch to the gut.

"Fucking  _ thralls," _ Poe mutters venomously, understanding crashing into him like an anvil. He has the presence of mind to flag down the bartender before throwing down a few notes down beside his half-finished drink. He's only just started the tab and he knows by look alone that he's definitely paid too much, but it's impossible to care. He's half-drunk on something far more heady.

He grabs his jacket and shrugs it on, already on the move across the dance floor. It's busy enough that it's hell to see through the hot, sweaty moving bodies that encompass him, but although the man is nowhere to be seen he's not worried. Poe's not moving on sight. It's like there's a hook imbedded in him, lodged in his gut and reeling him relentlessly in like a fish on a line, and he's not fighting it. The rational side of his mind is blaring alarms. It's the part of him that recognizes that this isn't normal, that for all of the vampires Poe has encountered and slain over the years, none of them have ever made him feel like this, and that he needs to get out and get far away from this one. Poe acknowledges that, and then he discards it, chasing the ache in his chest up the stairs at the back of the room. He pushes through the door stuck ajar despite the warning, ROOF ACCESS: ALARM WILL SOUND, and into the cool night air. 

Poe slides a hand casually into his pocket and looks around, getting his bearings. There's a light over the doorway, casting dim yellow light in a circle that fades quickly into shadow. Beyond that there's only moonlight and the sound of traffic on the street below, dulled by the bass that pumps out from the still cracked door behind him. Poe takes another step toward the edge of the light and the feeling in the bottom of his stomach catches and heats, sending a delicious warmth simmering through his blood. Poe wets his lips.

"Don't tell me you're shy," he calls out, voice carrying on the breeze. It tickles at the back of his neck, cooling the sweat that curls the ends of his hair and making Poe want to shiver. He resists, and waits.

"Would that disappoint you?" the reply comes at last. Poe follows the sound and finally sees him, a dark shadow leaning against the the roof's air conditioning box. He's even taller, broader than he looked from across the dancefloor. Poe's mouth runs abruptly dry. He takes another step away from the door and out of the circumference of lamplight. 

"Usually this is the part where most people introduce themselves," Poe says, letting his eyes adjust. That earns him a chuckle, low and dry, that makes his chest seize with sudden want.

"You don't care who I am," the stranger says dismissively, and there's a rush in the back of Poe's head that makes everything go momentarily fuzzy. There's a solid five seconds where Poe truly doesn't care, and all that matters is the draw he feels, the insensible urge to let his feet carry him forward across the roof and into the man's reach. He takes two steps and remembers to stop, breathes out and shakes himself.

He adopts his cockiest grin and plants his stance, projecting confidence with everything he's got. "I'm Poe. Poe Dameron. And you are?"

That gets his attention. The stranger straightens, and Poe's adjusted enough to the change in light to see his features more clearly now, so he doesn't miss the way his eyes narrow or the way his lush lips press together into something thin and suspicious. He's still implaceably beautiful.

"You know," he says, and there's a sharpness to his deep voice that wasn't there before. It makes Poe's hair stand on end.

"I'm still not hearing a name," he counters. The man shifts on his feet, cutting slow and wide around Poe, a predatory circle. Poe pivots casually; he's not one to turn his back on danger. "Last I checked, vampires still had those these days."

The vampire makes a derisive sound, but grudgingly allows an answer: "Kylo Ren."

"Somehow I doubt that's the name your mother gave you," Poe drawls, and a look of pure fury passes over Kylo's face, twisting his mouth into a snarl. Poe's eyes fall of their own accord to the moles and freckles that speckle his cheek. He wants to trace them into constellations with his tongue.

A moment later, he regrets the distraction. Kylo moves in the space of one heartbeat and the next, crossing the distance between them in a blur and shoving Poe aggressively backward. The breath in his lungs expels in a rush when his back hits the roof door, slamming it shut. Kylo has one hand at his shoulder and one at his throat, his body hard where it presses against Poe's. He gulps for breath against the dig of Kylo's thumb against his pulse point; arousal wends its brutal way through him.

"Are you another thrill seeker, Dameron?" Kylo Ren hisses, both seductive and a loaded threat all at once. He bares his teeth in a gleaming grin that is all condescension and hunger. "Come looking for a dash of danger?"

It's hard to think with him so close, looming in with a deadly sort of intimacy, the thrall and the weight of his attraction spinning together into something inexorably lethal. Poe gasps out a laugh, even as he fights to keep hold on the veneer of calm; he rests his head back against the door and fists his hands inside his jacket pockets. “I can handle myself.”

Kylo’s thumb loosens slightly, tracking down the line of his throat and finding the scars there. His demeanor shifts like a switch, his hand twisting into the hair at the nape of Poe’s neck and he bends his head in, eyes glittering like daggers in the moonlight. His words are thick with disgust. “You think I want your sloppy seconds? This isn’t amateur hour.”

Poe has pride, too, in scores to match. He twists his hand free of his jacket with practiced ease and shoves the point of his stake between them, letting it dig into Kylo’s chest. He shows his teeth in his own wicked grin. “No,” Poe agrees. “It’s not.”

Kylo Ren looks down at the weapon pressed above his heart with grudging interest, a wave of his hair falling soft against the hard clench of his jaw. Poe thinks of all the things they could do with his hand knotted in that hair, the places he could guide Kylo’s pretty mouth and those deadly, deadly teeth. Fuck, but he wants it.

“A honey pot with a sting,” Kylo says, and for the first time, Poe realizes he sounds truly intrigued. Kylo works his fingers deeper into the base of his skull and forcibly tilts his head further back, peering at Poe intently. His gaze is like bared blade, cutting straight through him. “Yet you’re here alone.”

Poe pushes the stake more firmly into Ren’s breast, satisfaction curling in the pit of his stomach when Kylo inhales sharply. He licks his lips. “I try not to risk anyone’s neck by my own.”

Kylo takes it as an invitation to let his own gaze fall, tracking down Poe’s throat. His lips part and Poe can see the elongated curve of his teeth, stark and pale against the red of his mouth. He bites back the urge to moan. 

“I can see that,” Kylo says, turning his face toward Poe, shifting in closer. His lips brush the curve of Poe’s ear when he continues, saying, “And now no one is here to help you. You’re in over your head.”

Poe’s grip tightens over the wood in his hand. He knows exactly how much force it would take to make it deadly, to pierce through cloth and skin and sinew and make Ren crumble into ash. The moment stretches. “Speak for yourself.”

Kylo scoffs, nips at his ear, and says, “You want it.” Poe catches his breath, suddenly unable to trust his own voice not to betray him, and the vampire growls. “You  _ want _ it,” he repeats, patience wearing thin. Ignoring the way the stake must stab at his chest, Kylo steps in further, bringing their bodies flush together and pushing his knee insistently between Poe’s thighs.

_ “Fuck.” _ Poe grinds down, the sudden introduction of friction enough to make him moan. He grips blindly at Kylo’s sleeve with his free hand, the stake still lodged between them, and rocks his erection against Kylo’s thigh. He’s so turned on, he feels like he could go at it like a kid half his age, dry humping himself to completion. But it’s not enough. He wants  _ more.  _ Reigning himself back in, he tilts his head toward Kylo’s and manages: “Fuck you.”

Ren looks incredulous, and Poe wonders dizzily if Kylo’s as aroused as he is. “You think you can resist me?”

“I already am, aren’t I?” Poe says, too far gone on the thrill to modulate his tone. Anticipation thrums through him like something living, and he’d never admit it aloud but he knows it’s not just the thrall. Not anymore, if it were ever more than an excuse.

“We’ll see,” Kylo says, voice low. The hand not still locked in his hair drops to his hip, dragging Poe torso abruptly forward so he’s off balance, weight falling more heavily against the door. He rocks Poe deliberately against him, pressing his leg up against his dick. Poe groans, eyelids fluttering only briefly, and Kylo strikes.

He’s been bitten before, more than once. It’s always painful, but this is something else, the fatal sting of it juxtaposed by the feel of Kylo’s fingers digging into his scalp, the slow maddening grind of their hips, and fuck, fuck, he can feel the hardness of Ren’s cock through their clothes every time he cants himself against Poe’s crotch. Kylo retracts his teeth and seals his mouth against Poe’s neck, tongue tracing his skin as he sucks his blood from the wound in slow, lazy sips.

Poe feels like he’s dying, and at the same time, like he’s never been more alive. Hell, but he can see why people would seek this out. He’s been hunting vampires since before he could legally buy his own packs of cigarettes, killed more than he’s ever cared to keep count of, and maybe this was always the next, inevitable step. Poe arches his back and tries to lose himself to the sensation, but Kylo refuses to settle into any sort of predictable rhythm, switching it as it suits him, and it’s too much and not enough by turns. He hisses with frustration.

“I’m going to kill you,” Poe promises, and feels Kylo’s hum of amusement vibrate through the ache in his neck. He shudders, and if he was anywhere else, with anyone else, he’d drop the stake in favor of shoving Kylo off to get at his fly, get a hand inside his pants and palm his dick until he moaned. Poe thinks about it, how he would get on his knees and swallow down Kylo’s cock and let Kylo fuck his face until neither of them remembered how to breathe. 

The breeze gusts against them, and Poe can’t stop the shiver this time. The warnings in his brain are flashing louder now, screaming against the tempting lull of pleasure that trembles through him with every roll of his hips. He grits his teeth and his fist tightens in the heavy fabric of Kylo Ren’s shirt. It’s apparently just enough to telegraph his intentions, because Kylo lifts his head suddenly from Poe’s neck with a hiss. His mouth is slick red with Poe’s blood and Poe freezes, transfixed despite himself. 

Kylo releases his grip on his hair, only to capture Poe’s wrist with a sneer, dragging the hand from his arm to Poe’s neck. His tone his contemptuous when he snarls, “Pressure, Dameron. You know the drill.”

Poe presses the heel of his palm against the wound, grimacing. The blood is warm and sticky under his fingers and the reminder is enough to dampen the edge of his desire. “Did I make you nervous?” he asks, smirking despite the pain that’s pushing its way back to the forefront of his consciousness. Kylo licks his lips, his eyes dipping to run down the length of Poe’s body and then back up again. He wipes the blood from his lower lip with a thumb and sucks it clean, meeting Poe’s eyes as he does. Poe swears under his breath, and again louder when Kylo unexpectedly shifts his other hand from Poe’s hip to palm roughly at his erection.

“I got what I wanted. Did you?”

The answer should be fairly obvious. Poe would fuck him in a heartbeat, walking undead or not, right there on the roof, over the railing, on the ground. Still, Poe looks up through lowered lashes and lies as sweetly as he can manage, “You’re still talking. That’s a pretty major problem in my book.”

“Pity,” Ren murmurs, all mocking insincerity. He crowds in again, brazen in his lack of care for the stake still hovering between them, and for a fleeting instant Poe thinks he might kiss him. “Until another time, Dameron,” he murmurs an inch from Poe’s lips, the air itself crackling between them. Kylo squeezes his dick through his pants, making Poe tilt his head back and groan from the suddenness of it, and then the next thing he’s knows, Poe’s been shoved aside. He lands on his ass on the coarse flat of the roof, stake clattering away out of reach and head spinning with confusion, and then the loud wail of an alarm cuts through the night above the music from below. The door he’d been leaning on just a moment ago is swinging on its hinges, a gaping hole where the handle used to be. Kylo Ren is gone.

“Fucking vampires,” he grouses.

Poe staggers to his feet, cursing his own reckless stupidity and trying not to stumble from blood loss, and casts about for an exit. He can already imagine the pain in the ass he’ll have to face if he’s still here when someone from the establishment downstairs makes it up here to investigate the alarm. He stoops down to grab the stake and shove it back into his pocket and when he rises, he spots the fire escape a few meters away. It’s a tricky business, making it down one-handed and lightheaded and still half-hard, but he does it. He’s been through worse. 

He makes it to the street in a reasonable amount of time and cuts down a side-street just as the alarm cuts out. Poe keeps his pace steady and keeps to the shadows to avoid any curious looks from bypassers who might get concerned about all the blood, then digs out his phone and scrolls quickly through his contacts. 

‘I found him,’ he types in, and sends the text without delay, followed by, ‘Rendezvous B. Med type 3.’ The phone buzzes a moment later with the expected acknowledgement, and Poe pockets it with a grim smile. He breathes out and lets the satisfaction finally wash through him fully, a welcome counterpoint to the smarting in his neck and the lingering tug of thralled desire in his gut.

Poe Dameron got  _ exactly _ what he was looking for.  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Written a bit late and in a hurry for [knightpilotweek](http://knightpilotweek.tumblr.com), theme: adrenaline. This is one of those ideas that has been lodged in my brain for a while and actually has a whole plot simmering behind it, despite the fact I tried to write it as a one-off for now. 
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr](http://greyjedibenorgana.tumblr.com).
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Comments are deeply appreciated.


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